


Collision Point - Momentum

by Awahili



Series: Determinant [16]
Category: Zoo (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rewrite, alternative universe, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awahili/pseuds/Awahili
Summary: "In every moment of choice, you create a new destiny." Bizarre things are happening in Geneva as the team investigates the sudden death of a colleague. A Jamie/Mitch rewrite





	Collision Point - Momentum

**Author's Note:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.

Mitch didn’t like the new girl. Everything about her grated on his nerves, from her “bad ass Army Ranger, don’t mess with me” stare to her rather impulsive decision making skills. She was brash and rude and confrontational and short-sighted...he could go on for days. But the worst part - the very worst part - was that the rest of the team didn’t seem to mind her. They all acted like she was a great asset to the team, like she could just waltz onto _their_ plane and traipse around as though she belonged. It was like they were filling in the Jamie-shaped space among them, and it made Mitch’s stomach turn.

Mitch was probably the only one unsurprised when Dariela put two bullets into Kovacs’ head. He’d known from the moment they’d found her on the floor of that hovel in Patagonia that she was trouble. Sometimes he hated being right.

“He’s dead.” Mitch looked up from Kovacs’ body as Chloe whirled on the Ranger.

It was nice to see Chloe’s force of will aimed at someone who wasn’t him. By the time Chloe stormed off, Dariela looked equal parts chastised and pissed off. Mitch just stared at her smugly. She sneered at him and stalked toward the vehicle bay, but not before muttering a vulgar dismissal at him on her way past. He thought about spitting an answering retort, but practicality won out over childish impulses. He needed to get as much information from the body as he could, and every moment counted now.

“We need to get him on the table,” he told Jackson and Abe. They helped move the body with minimal chatter, for which Mitch was eternally grateful. As he dove into the tests he could perform without D.C.’s input, Jackson and Abe split off in opposite directions. 

It was almost twenty minutes later when an incessant beeping broke through his concentration. He glanced up, worried at first that he’d triggered some sort of biohazard safety feature he’d overlooked. But the sound wasn’t emanating from any of the equipment in the lab; it seemed to be further off. He followed the sound to the small meeting room just off the hall, where a wall-mounted screen was flashing an incoming call.

Mitch reached out and pressed the green circle. The beeping stopped and Eleanor’s face filled the screen.

“Good evening, Doctor Morgan.”

“Is it?” he crossed his arms. “I don’t even know what time zone I’m in right now.”

She answered with a humorless smile. “Is the rest of the team available? I need to speak with you all.”

“I’ll go get them.” He turned around and made his way through the lab toward the living quarters. He knew Chloe and Jackson had come this way earlier, and he had no intention of speaking to Abe or Dariela unless he had to.

He found them whispering just outside the lounge. They were leaning toward each other conspiratorially, and Mitch felt annoyed. They were hiding something from the team, he knew that much from the quiet conversations they always seemed to stop whenever anyone else drew near. He certainly didn’t begrudge them their secrets, but his curious mind had always been intrigued by puzzles. As he neared, he heard Chloe’s voice warning Jackson not to tell anyone.

“Ooh, what are we not telling anyone?” They jumped apart guiltily at his sudden appearance, but they didn’t elaborate. Resigning himself to another day of not knowing, he hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “Eleanor wants to talk to us.”

“Where’s Abe?” Jackson asked as they took their seats.

“Sleeping?” Mitch offered unhelpfully. He’d stopped at the bar on the way back and grabbed a drink. He had a feeling he’d need it for this conversation.

“We don’t have time for you to wake him.” Eleanor’s face was tired and drawn as she nodded her greeting to Chloe. “I need you to meet me in Geneva, Switzerland immediately,” she said. “They’re pushing forward on the Noah Objective. A multinational conference has been assembled here to work out logistics.”

“I thought we had more time,” Chloe protested.

“General Andrew Davies has taken over,” Eleanor explained, “and his methods are aggressive.”

“What does that mean?” Jackson asked.

But Eleanor just shook her head. “I’d rather discuss this in person.”

“Okay,” Chloe agreed, “we’ll come as soon as we can.”

Something pinged in the back of his mind when Eleanor mentioned the general’s name, but there were more pressing matters at the fore. “What about Jamie?”

“Resources are scarce, Dr. Morgan,” Eleanor apologized, “but Jamie is still at the top of my list. As soon as there’s a team available.”

It sounded like a hollow promise, but there was little Mitch could do about it. Chloe answered with a thank you that the rest of them imitated, but Mitch wasn’t feeling very thankful. He listened halfheartedly as Chloe made arrangements for Eleanor to meet them at the plane when they landed.

“Stay safe,” Chloe signed off, and the screen returned to the twenty four hour news coverage that seemed to be worsening by the day.

Jackson didn’t waste time or words. “She seem a little off to you?”

“Yes,” Chloe and Mitch twinned. 

“Something is wrong,” Chloe continued, leaving the ever important question of “what” unasked.

Jackson stood up. “I’ll go tell Trotter to set a course for Geneva.” He disappeared down the hall, leaving Chloe and Mitch alone in the conference room.

Mitch down the rest of his scotch. “Meanwhile, Jamie is God-knows-where in the Canadian wilderness. _If_ she’s still even alive.”

“Don’t think like that,” Chloe shook her head. “You have to have faith.”

Mitch snorted derisively and stood up. “Faith?”

“Yes,” Chloe stood with him. “Faith that Jamie is strong enough to survive, to stay safe long enough for us to get to her.”

“When will that be?” Mitch shot back angrily. “Tomorrow? A week? How long do you think she can survive out there on her own?”

“We’re not giving up on her,” Chloe began, but Mitch scoffed and stormed past her. “Mitch!” He made a beeline for the living quarters. He lamented the sliding door, wanting nothing more than the satisfaction of slamming it closed behind him.

The rooms were small, barely large enough for the double bed and set of drawers. There was another door that led to an en suite bathroom that he shared with no one. Abe and Jackson were in the rooms across the hall, having surrendered the fight for the master to Chloe almost immediately. Mitch wondered bitterly if he would soon be sharing his bathroom with Dariela.

Given the size of his room, there was no space to properly pace out his frustration. Eleanor’s words replayed in his head over and over. _As soon as a team becomes available_. He’d interacted with enough bureaucrats to understand what she meant - they’d get to it when there weren’t more pressing matters. Finding Jamie was just an unimportant errand they had to run when the real job was finished.

He felt the plane shift beneath him and guessed Jackson had relayed their new destination to Trotter. Mitch had never been to Switzerland, and he felt guilty for the twinge of anticipation that thrummed through him. He’d always wanted to visit the LHC and stand in the shadows of scientific giants. Maybe he could persuade the others to make a quick visit.

They landed at a small, semi-private airport some hours later and Chloe called Eleanor. Or, at least she tried to. 

“She must already be on her way,” Chloe keyed her phone off and tucked it back into her pocket. “I’ll tell Trotter to let us know if someone comes knocking.”

But no one did. They waited for almost an hour, but with still no answer on Eleanor’s phone and time running out Chloe decided it was time to venture out. Abe dropped them at the IADG building after volunteering to take Dariela to the train station. There was a military attachment there that could probably get her back to her unit in Sao Paolo. 

“I’d say it’s been fun,” Dariela sketched a salute with two fingers as they climbed out of the back seat in front of the IADG, “but it hasn’t.”

Mitch sneered and opened his mouth to say something scathing, but Chloe cut him off. “I hope you find a way back to your unit, Lieutenant. Thank you for your help.” Mitch wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe Chloe shot Abe a look that told him to drive away because he gassed it and zipped off before anyone else could get a word out. Mitch turned to her with a quizzical expression. “What?” she asked innocently.

“‘Thank you for your help?’”

“She was very helpful in finding Ydermo.”

“She shot our only living specimen for this new Phase 2 mutation,” Mitch hissed, mindful of the sensitive nature of their work. There was a beat of silence, then Chloe’s eyes cut ever so briefly towards Jackson. Just as quickly they were back on him, but it was enough to send his curiosity into overdrive again.

“We need to find Eleanor,” Chloe changed the subject abruptly, which wasn’t suspicious at all. Sometime very soon, Mitch was going to corner one of them and demand some answers.

“Come on,” Jackson directed them to the building behind them. “Maybe someone here can direct us to her hotel.”

They found Eleanor’s adjutant, Lieutenant Reed, but he seemed as perplexed as they were that his boss hadn’t come to the plane. As he moved off to search for answers, another man took notice of them.

“This is General Davies,” Chloe spoke quietly as the general approached. “The man Eleanor warned us about.”

As he preached from his soapbox about the Noah Objective, Mitch couldn’t help but feel like there was something familiar about the man. He racked his brain, stretching back into the distant memories of days spent pouring over various theses and papers. It hit him just as Davies was finishing up his holier-than-thou reasoning.

“Damn it, I knew it!” he interrupted. “I knew I recognized you. Chloe, Jackson this is _Doctor_ Andrew Davies. He’s got a Ph.D. from Cambridge. I read your graduate thesis.”

Davies stared coolly at him, thoroughly unimpressed with his revelation. “I’m familiar with your work as well, Doctor Morgan - the study you published about mast cell tumors. The one that was ultimately discredited.” He knew he’d scored a hit and turned back to Chloe. “You had your chance to find a cure. You failed. Every day spent discussing how to save the animals means thousands of human lives will be lost. So as much as I’d like to stand here and debate ethics all day, I have a war to win.” He turned abruptly and strode away toward a group of attachés waiting in the wings.

“That’s the guy who’s running the Noah Objective?” Jackson asked.

“And now we’re smack dab in the middle of his crosshairs,” Mitch added.

Chloe pushed past them and aimed for the door. “We need to find Eleanor now.”

They found her half an hour later dead on her hotel room floor. Chloe’s mind immediately jumped to assassination, but there was something about the scorch marks on Eleanor’s face that made Mitch skeptical.

“If I’m gonna get any answers, I’m gonna need a sample of cerebrospinal fluid,” he told them. “Check out her nervous system for any chemicals or radiation.” He stood and glanced around, feeling woefully unprepared for the task. He didn’t have a syringe or a vial, not to mention a scalpel or needle. Luckily, he was good at improvising.

“Mitch, check this out,” Jackson called from across the room.

Mitch looked up from where he was orally siphoning spinal fluid into a straw and gagged. “Little busy here.”

“We got company.” 

Company turned out to be ants - thousands of them. They were swarming toward the electrical socket in a formation Mitch had never seen before. He folded the straw enough to pinch the fluid inside and grabbed the ice bucket.

“Here, scoop up some ants. Hurry before this spinal fluid goes bad.”

Jackson took the bucket and smirked. “Now that’s a sentence you could go your whole life and never hear.”

“We have to go.” Chloe had her hands full with Eleanor’s computer and files, Jackson had the ants, and Mitch his straw of spinal fluid. 

“Man, I hope nobody stops us,” Mitch quipped as they walked swiftly toward the elevators. “I’m not sure which of these would be hardest to explain.”

Abe was waiting for them in the pick up lane. Chloe had asked him to stay in the car in case they needed a quick exit; Mitch was glad for her foresight. While Abe drove them back to the plane, Chloe called in an anonymous tip about Eleanor’s death.

“What do you think killed her?” Jackson leaned over toward Mitch as Chloe filled Abe in.

“Not sure yet,” Mitch shrugged. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t a pleasant way to die.”

Truthfully, Mitch’s thoughts weren’t on Eleanor and her mysterious death. Much like the last several days since that fateful call in Dalton’s Bar, his thoughts were on Jamie. With Eleanor dead would there even been someone to send a team to New Brunswick, or had any hope of saving Jamie died with her?

There was a collective sigh of relief as the ramp closed them up in the vehicle bay. He knew the plane wasn’t completely safe, but Mitch felt better as he walked into the relatively new comfort of his lab. 

“Put the ants in there,” he gestured toward a small acrylic tank. He carefully transferred the spinal fluid from the straw into a proper container as Jackson dumped the ants out of the bucket. Chloe sat down in front of the monitor and turned up the news report that was now showing a picture of Eleanor.

“If you’re just joining us, we’re covering breaking news out of Geneva, Switzerland, where IADG consultant, Eleanor Lewis, was found dead in her hotel room. The cause of death has not been released…”

Mitch drowned out the rest as he carefully prepared the vials for his tests. It had been a while since he’d been in med school, but he’d always had a good memory for procedures. Chemistry had been one of his best subjects thanks to his mother.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Jackson say softly, and glanced over to where he stood behind Chloe. “I really am. We, uh, we need to reach out to someone else in Eleanor’s department.”

Chloe’s next words sealed Jamie’s coffin. “She didn’t have a department. It was just her and Amelia. With both of them gone, we’re working alone.”

Mitch couldn’t look up from his work, but he made sure his tone reflected his sour mood. “Which means there’s no search team being sent to look for Jamie.”

“Hey, Mitch, no one’s giving up on Jamie.” Jackson began. “We will find a way to -”

Mitch didn’t let him get far. “No one is gonna waste any resources looking for a redhead lost in the woods, right?” He leveled the younger man with a piercing stare, daring him to argue. “Right?” But Jackson couldn’t.

Behind him, the reporter’s tone lifted as he introduced a new story. “...this information is coming to us live. Authorities have discovered five more unexplained deaths in Geneva, bringing the total count...” Mitch zoned out the surrounding noise and concentrated on the slide. There was something weird about the sample, something he’d never seen before. It almost looked like…

 _Can’t be_.

But, then again, he’d said that a lot in the last year.

“...maybe this is bigger than General Davies.”

“Or smaller,” Mitch corrected Jackson.

“What’s that?” Jackson and Chloe moved to peer over Mitch’s shoulder at the screen.

“That,” Mitch explained, “is Eleanor’s cerebrospinal fluid.”

“What are those?” Jackson gestured at the discolored blobs floating in the medium. 

Mitch tapped a few keys on the board. “Check this out.” The image shifted, and the blobs sharpened into a recognizable form.

“There was an ant inside Eleanor’s spine when she died?” Chloe asked.

Jackson took her thought one step further. “So the ants killed her?”

Mitch shrugged. “Maybe.”

“How?”

Mitch was just as confused as they were on that particular score. He had no idea how an ant had even gotten into Eleanor’s spinal fluid, much less caused the scorching he’d seen on her body.

“What is it?” Abe returned from the vehicle bay as they all stood around the microscope. Mitch knew it was his job to explain the science stuff, but the grudge he was currently harboring reared its head again. With barely a glance at Jackson, he sauntered past Abe and made a beeline for the bar.

When he returned Chloe had disappeared and the other two were huddled around the cube of ants. Mitch sank against the steel stairs as he half-listened to Jackson and Abe ramble on about ant mating rituals. Theirs was an odd friendship, for sure.

“Ok,” Chloe was on the phone as she walked back into the room. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Mitch stood and made his way around as she looked up at them. “That was Dariela.”

“What does she want?” Abe asked.

“Yeah, and why do we care?” Mitch added snidely. 

“She wants to show us something,” Chloe explained. “Says it’s important to what we’re working on.”

Mitch snorted derisively into his scotch. “Well, so is that creature formerly known as Janos Kovacs, but that didn’t stop her from putting a bullet in his brain.”

Mitch saw the eyeroll Jackson held back as he stood. “I’ll go with you.” He followed Chloe out the door, leaving Abe waiting expectantly.

“Oh, I-I don’t need any help,” Mitch drawled. _And I wouldn’t ask you if I did._

But Abe wasn’t looking at Mitch. “That’s strange.” Mitch followed the other man’s gaze down to the ants, who were gathered in a front corner of the glass cube. Abe was right - it was strange - but Mitch didn’t say so. “They all seem to determined to move in that one direction.” For the sake of science, Mitch picked up the box and turned it around. The ants immediately reversed direction and returned to the front corner. “And they seem to be drawn to something,” Abe added. “But what?”

“I have no idea,” Mitch tried to sound as disinterested as possible (though internally his mind was screaming at him to figure out this new mystery). “I could ponder that a while, but I’d rather ponder this.” He lifted his drink and took another long sip. He hoped Abe got the hint and left him alone. 

But when Abe stood, it wasn’t to leave. Instead he leaned in toward Mitch with a piercing stare. “Mitch,” the word was an invitation - maybe even part of an apology- but it was still too soon.

“What?” He couldn’t keep the bite from his own voice (not that he’d tried too hard).

“Jamie would have wanted you to finish what we began.”

He wasn’t sure if it was Abe’s use of the past tense, or the sharp contrast of his words against Chloe’s earlier optimism. Maybe it was just her name, two syllables that seemed to slice straight through the hastily constructed armor he’d been cobbling together ever since New Brunswick. Whatever it was, it rendered the logical, orderly part of his mind silent. The roar in his ears erupted from his throat as he lunged at the larger man. 

Mitch saw the moment of surprise on Abe’s face as the normally stoic scientist launched himself across the space and threw a sloppy punch at his nose. Mitch’s hip bumped the corner of the exam table, sending his punch wide as pain cut through the haze of anger.

Abe grabbed Mitch’s arms to steady him. “Whoa, Mitch. Mitch! Calm down!” 

Mitch shoved away and Abe let him go. His muscles trembled with excess energy, ready to go at him again, but his higher brain functions had kicked back on and he forced himself to keep his distance. It helped that his eyes were still closed and he didn’t have to see the expression on Abe’s face.

“I didn’t want to leave her there,” Abe’s voice was quiet and even, but his words were igniting the fire again. “I made a difficult call. To save _your_ life.”

Mitch clenched his fists tightly for a count of three then relaxed them. “I didn’t need saving,” he finally opened his eyes and stared hard at Abe. “She did.”

“She was my friend, too -”

“Stop,” Mitch’s voice broke then. “Stop talking like she’s gone.”

They had been in this very situation before, only the last time Mitch had been strapped to a hospital bed. He expected Abe’s soft apology, his insistence that Mitch listen to the logical part of his mind and begin to accept the reality that Jamie would likely never be found.

But it never came.

“Perhaps she isn’t,” Abe agreed. “Jamie is remarkably resourceful, and strong. I was wrong before,” he admitted, “and perhaps I am wrong now. But even if I am, there is nothing you can do right at this moment. Right now, you can help us solve this piece of the puzzle so that we can move on. We will find a way to look for her, Mitch. I promise. But we need you right now.”

For a moment neither man spoke, and Mitch feared he would have to be the one to break the awkward silence. The fact that Abe was right didn't make Jamie's absence any more bearable, or their abandonment of her any less shameful. But whatever the outcome, there was something going on here that needed his immediate attention. He would pay the penance for it later.

The sound of electricity crackling ended the silence, and the two men leaned in toward the ants.

“What?” Blue arcs of lightning slipped across the surface of their mass, dancing in between and around the tiny bodies as it intensified with each second.

“Okay, that’s...weird,” Mitch admitted. After a moment’s hesitation he downed the remainder of his drink and sighed. “Luckily, we’ve gotten very good at weird.”

Abe disappeared to check on news reports as Mitch got to work. There wasn’t really much to do except monitor the ants’ output and try to discover any triggers. So far, he couldn’t find one.

“Mitch!” Abe’s voice was insistent but not urgent, so Mitch finished what he was doing before joining Abe in the conference room. A news story was just wrapping up about another explosion in Geneva.

“That’s two in the last hour alone,” Abe commented. “We should check in with Jackson and the others and see if there are any other incidents associated with electrocution.”

“You call, I’ll type.”

Jackson picked up on the third ring. “Yeah?”

“Have you heard about the explosions?” Abe asked.

“Yeah, we just saw one of them,” Jackson answered. “There’s dead ants everywhere.”

“They’re generating electricity,” Mitch raised his voice to be heard. 

“What are you talking about?”

“The ants we collected, they can generate electricity. That’s how they’re killing people.”

“Hold on, you’re saying ants are electrocuting people?” Dariela’s voice was grating even over the speakerphone.

“Yup,” Mitch confirmed abruptly. “That’s what happened to Eleanor.” He and Abe had descended to the lower level of the lab and were now parked in front of a computer terminal. “Enough of these ants together could generate a powerful enough charge to…”

“Blow up a transformer?” Chloe finished for him.

“First people, now transformers - what’s next?” Dariela growled.

“Ants move in a straight line,” Jackson posited. 

Chloe was on the same wavelength. “Where were the other explosions?” 

Mitch searched quickly and created a map of all of the reported incidents. “Power station,” he told them, “near PARC Trembley.” He guessed that was where they were now. “Next one was just over the border in um, Les Pug- Puj- Pugins-”

“ _Les Pugins_ ,” Chloe pronounced helpfully. 

Abe leaned in and peered at the screen. “We’ve mapped all the deaths caused by ants, including Eleanor. They all fall along the same line.” Mitch saw Abe’s head turn toward the ants, who were still clamoring and crackling in their cage. “What if all of the ants in Geneva were heading to the same place?”

Mitch analyzed the map and took a moment to appreciate the irony. _Well_ , he thought, _at least I won’t have to ask the others to make an extra stop._

Apparently the threat of an imminent runaway fusion reaction was enough to get them access into the main control room of the LHC. When Abe and Mitch arrived, Jackson and Chloe were already arguing with the scientists there. It took some doing, but eventually they all agreed on a plan.

Unfortunately, that plan meant the trigger-happy Ranger was with them.

“Are you saying the ants are smart enough to know they can call this...what’s it called?” They were jogging down a long tunnel, and Mitch was suddenly regretting not keeping up with his cardio.

“Runaway fusion reaction,” he huffed between steps. “And no, they’re not that self-aware. It’s more like a biological imperative.”

They came to a T-intersection and skidded to a halt. An entire army of ants was marching down the corridor. Mitch warned them to keep back but Jackson was already out in the middle, in the path of the deadly swarm. Mitch reached for Jackson, knowing it was too late. A group of ants a fraction of this size had killed Eleanor; there was no way he could get away in time.

But Mitch never heard the zap of electricity or the screams of his friend. Instead, the sea of ants parted and shifted _around_ Jackson’s feet, leaving him untouched in their wake.

“Whoa,” Dariela breathed. “Did you see that?”

“Yes, I did.” But Mitch could only wonder at the phenomenon he’d just witnessed, another small piece of the puzzle clicking into place. This had something to do with Jackson and Chloe’s secret conversations, he was sure of it. And now he was a little more sure of just what it was they were trying to hide. They were definitely going to have a little chat when this was all over. _If_ they survived.

They barreled through a door and down several flights of stairs. Jackson’s phone rang as they ran, and Mitch only half paid attention.

“Yeah, we just saw a river of them,” Jackson yelled. “I’ll let you know when we’re there. Hold tight.”

They dropped a few more flights and passed too many doors to count. Mitch wasn’t even sure if they were getting close. As they passed through another door, Jackson lifted the phone back to his ear.

“Hey, we’re at the collision point,” he yelled.

Chittering filled the space, and they turned to see millions of ants converging on the point. They were using the pipes as a pathway, marching in almost a straight line toward their goal. 

“Time to find this override,” Dariela got them moving again. Mitch was lost, but thankfully Jackson seemed to be on the phone with someone who knew what they were doing. 

“We’re at the fourth station,” he said. “It’s got to be over there.” He gestured toward a red door and ran for it, the other two close on his heels. They crashed through it into a large space that looked straight out of a science fiction novel.

It was more impressive than the photos Mitch had seen. It would be his luck to finally be inside the belly of the beast and be unable to fully appreciate the intricacies and mechanisms at work here. Jackson found the override handle behind a glass barrier, complete with digital combination lock.

“No one said it would locked,” Jackson grumbled. The ants were closing in fast - they needed to throw that switch now. Jackson began slamming his elbow into the pane and quickly discovered it wasn’t glass. It barely cracked.

 _Great_ , Mitch groaned internally. _What else could go wrong?_

Jackson struck again and the crack grew, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed more time.

“Yo, lab rat!” Dariela called. Mitch turned with a glare at the nickname, then followed her eyes to the yellow extinguisher on the far wall. “Found something to shoot.”

Mitch looked at the canister then at the approaching army and figured out her plan instantly. It wasn’t a bad one. He moved to unbuckle the thing from its holster as Dariela drew her weapon.

“Hurry up, they’re closing in!” she shouted unhelpfully. “Come on!”

Mitch pried the the canister free and held it low, ready to toss it out over the pipes. “Can you do this?”

“Just throw it!” she commanded. 

The yellow extinguisher flew up and over the railing, and out of the corner of his eye Mitch saw Dariela track it with her sidearm. The moment it was near the ants she fired. The explosion pushed them back a little, and Mitch held his hand over his face to block some of the heat. When it had dissipated, he looked up.

A large section of the piping was gone and the gases inside hissed as they vented into the open air. Just beyond it, Mitch heard another noise - a familiar one. Blue sparks lit up the area enough to see, and he watched in fascinated dismay as the ants began building a bridge.

“Jackson!” he cried. “Charge it up!” He heard another slam, and looked over to see Jackson’s elbow finally break the pane. He and Dariela regrouped as Jackson gripped the handle. “Alright, there’s gonna be a shock wave.” Jackson twisted and a high pitched whine turned into a loud hum as the energy gathered. Lightning arced from the ants, and Mitch felt the hairs on his arm and neck stand up.

When it happened, it felt like someone had hit him with an AED. They all grunted as they were knocked prone, and it took Mitch several seconds before he tried to sit up.

Next to him, Jackson was doing the same. “You guys okay?”

“Did we win?” Dariela pushed herself to her feet, but immediately began coughing and gagging.

“Dariela?”

For the first time, Mitch saw what he guessed was panic on her face as she clutched at her throat. “I think I may have swallowed one of those bastards.”

Mitch cursed under his breath for a third time as Jackson shut off the power to the makeshift electric chair they’d rigged. It had been the only solution Mitch could think of; zap the ant before it could zap her. He’d guessed the ant needed to get to her central nervous system before it could do any damage, so they had some time. Jackson had called Abe and Chloe to relay the list of items Mitch needed and to find out where the nearest power console was located. Luckily it hadn’t been far.

“Put em on,” Mitch directed Chloe, who had brought a voltmeter. She placed the probes on Dariela’s temples and they waited. Nothing. “We’re good,” he said. “The ant’s dead.” It looked like Dariela was as well. She wasn’t breathing, and Mitch shook his head as he pressed two fingers against her throat. “She’s got no pulse. Okay, get her on the floor.” 

Abe was panicking, and Mitch wondered not for the first time if something had happened between the two of them. He’d never seen the big guy so frantic before. Mitch could sympathize. Knowing someone you cared about was in danger or dead was bad enough; watching it happen in front of you was worse.

Mitch didn’t fight when Abe took over the CPR. The rest of them could only watch helplessly as Abe alternated chest compressions and rescue breaths.

“Come on,” Abe muttered under his breath. Mitch contemplated putting her back in the chair to see if they could jump start her heart, but then she coughed once, twice, and she was breathing again. Jackson and Chloe smiled in relief; Mitch was just glad the whole thing was over.

Dariela’s voice was rough with exhaustion when she finally spoke. “Did it work?” 

“Good news is yes,” Mitch shrugged.

“And the bad news?”

“You might have a dead ant floating around inside you somewhere,” he drawled. Dariela smiled as Abe helped her sit up.

“Come on,” Jackson reached down and hauled her to her feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

They raced the sun back across the Atlantic, but no one on the plane saw it save Trotter. Exhaustion had crept up on them quickly, and everyone separated to their bunks almost the moment they were safely back onboard. 

Mitch collapsed face first into his comforter and stayed there until oxygen became an issue. He rolled to his side then to his back in slow, exaggerated movements. The shock wave from the collision point had rattled his body, and he was beginning to feel an ache deep in his muscles. A hot shower was probably a good idea, but he couldn’t muster the energy to stand.

Settling on taking one the moment he woke, Mitch slipped his glasses off and placed them on the nightstand. His hand brushed the framed picture there - hastily taken with his phone on one of their early adventures - of a vibrant smile and piercing blue eyes. Eleanor had asked for a photo of Jamie to give to the rescue team before they’d gone to New Brunswick, and on an impulse Mitch had printed an extra for himself. It wasn’t the best quality and it was printed on regular copy paper, but it was the only photo he had of her. 

He hadn’t even known it was on his phone until he went scrolling through his photos one day a few months ago. She had taken it herself, judging on the angle of the camera and the partial view of her outstretched arm. He had no idea when she might have done it but judging from the gleam in her eyes it was likely early in their adventures, before the weight of it all had begun to wear them down. Before Ben Schaffer and Clearwater, Florida. 

Whenever she had taken it, he was grateful for it. Back when he’d thought her dead, he’d been genuinely afraid that one day he would wake and be unable to remember that the exact shade of blue in her eyes or the way her mouth quirked up whenever she teased him. Seeing that picture had been a soothing balm on the raw, gaping wound her supposed death had left in him.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment’s indulgence. He imagined that she was there with him now, sitting quietly on the edge of his bed. She would cant her head just so and smile down at him, maybe even sift her nimble fingers through his hair. If he held his breath he could hear hers, steady and strong. When he inhaled again, the smell of her shampoo would fill his nostrils as she leaned down to press a kiss against his cheek.

_Get some sleep, Professor._

So he did.


End file.
